Atlas
by luwalhati
Summary: Hold my hand.
1. i wanna be yours

**17:16**

 **Bokuto has just come out** of the shower room, looking like a newborn baby with his ruddy cheeks and damp hair, when he sees the love of his life sitting on the benches. Her cropped hair barely curtains over her pretty face as she is slightly bending over, her attention on the small notebook in her hands.

His heart burns at the sight of her, reminding him how much he has missed Akaashi Shinji for the past few weeks. He's missed her bright green eyes, the constellation of freckles on her face, her addicting laugh, the way she licks her lips when she listens to him talk. It's _killing_ him! She's an angel sent by God to destroy him in the sweetest way man has known.

But the thing is, he is not the love of Akaashi Shinji's life.

Bokuto does not let that stop him from coming up to her, a giddy rhythm in his gait. "Hiya, Shinji-chan! What're you doing?"

Looking up, Shinji closes her notebook and tucks it back inside her bag. She pats the vacant space beside her. "Hello, Bokuto-kun! Just doing homework. How was practice?"

He plops down, close enough that he can smell strawberries, but not close enough that she might hear his thoughts. "It was great! As expected of Fukorodani's ace, I spiked more hits than I did yesterday!"

Shinji laughs. _There it is_ , Bokuto thinks. His eyes absentmindedly wander to her open mouth. He apologizes to God for the thoughts in his mind.

"That's wonderful, Bokuto-kun! So does that mean you won't be needing my support in your next tournament?" She leans her back against the wall and crosses her ankles. There's a twinkle in her eyes and it humbles Bokuto knowing it's for him.

He shakes his head at her. "No, no, no! I would love to see you up in the stands supporting me—I mean, us!"

"I'm kidding! Of course I'm going to cheer you on! That's not something you should doubt."

Bokuto's face breaks out into a grin, warmth pooling in his stomach. Leave it to Shinji to pinpoint his sweet spots. "I know you will, Shinji-chan! You're our biggest fan! So are you here for Akaashi?"

She nods, shifting a bit so she can face him. "It's my sister's rehearsal dinner tonight. Keiji and I still have to buy something to wear, so I'm picking him up. Speaking of which, where is he?"

"Oh, he's still in the showers, I think." Bokuto sends a thank-you to God for that.

Shinji juts out her lower lip in a pout. "He's so slow! At this rate, I'll be too late for caramel apples!"

Suddenly, at the mention of the treat, an idea dawns on Bokuto. He gulps, his heartbeat picking up. _It's now or never_ , he tells himself. _You might never get another chance like this._ So he steels his resolve, and begins, "Hey, Shinji-chan, after dinner tonight, if you're not busy, do you wanna—"

"Shinji," Akaashi says, interrupting him. He's already clad in a grey t-shirt and jeans, his bag slung across his torso. He nods to Bokuto, and luckily doesn't say anything that might put Bokuto's secret crush at risk.

"Ah! Keiji! Took you so long!" Shinji stood up, shouldering her bag before turning to Bokuto. "Sorry, Bokuto-kun, you were saying?"

With Akaashi now around, Bokuto's courage has deflated. He stretches his legs out, slouching. "Oh, nothing, Shinji-chan. Forget about it."

Akaashi casts him a questioning look while Shinji blinks. "Well, okay, if you say so. We have to get going now, text me later!"

"See you tomorrow, Bokuto-san," Akaashi says.

They exit the gym, leaving a crestfallen Bokuto behind.


	2. capsize

**19:45**

 **The Majesty's carpeted floor seems** to give in for Shinji, who tries to keep up with the buzz of conversation at their table. She feels the agony of a headache about to come, and she closes her eyes for a brief moment, aware of her mother's constant, sharp glances. In moments like this, Shinji resists the urge to shrug off the weight of expectations perched on her shoulders. She can only maintain this illusion of perfection for so long.

Shinji pinches the tender skin above Keiji's elbow, drawing his attention. Her cousin sends her a questioning look, beneath which is a layer of worry. Being perfect means never imposing herself onto other people, and so she rarely ever goes to Keiji whenever she is troubled.

"I don't feel good," she whispers to him. Shinji isn't sure if it's because of the food or her family, maybe both.

Keiji whispers back, "Do you want to go home? I can tell Auntie."

That's the last thing she wants; the face of her mother's frown flashes in her mind. She shakes her head. "No, no. I just want to ask if you have an Advil with you."

Keiji doesn't need to second guess her decision—his eyes tell him he trusts her. He pulls out his wallet and slides out a small blister pack.

"Here." He drops a pill onto her open palm.

"Thank you." With a finger, Shinji pushes the Advil into her mouth and hastily gulps down a full glass of water. Keiji watches her for a moment, before returning to his meal.

She sits straighter in the velvet chair. Her grandfather is now on his fourth glass of wine. The flush of inebriation is prominent on his cheeks as he regales to the fiancé his promiscuous adventures in America years ago with his third wife. The fiancé, a hulk of a man with a mess of ginger curls, nods along and laughs occasionally. He knows how to hold his liquor down—the beer mug clasped in his hand is his fifth one and he is still coherent, still polite. Shinji has been counting, because even though Keiji is more of a sibling to her than Sena will ever be, she doesn't want to see her sister spending her entire life miserable with a drunk.

Huddled at the opposite end of the table are the Aunts, minus Keiji's mom. They're either career women or trophy wives, but they all married the same type of husband, wear the same type of jewelry, and gossip about the same type of people. Her mother is the she-pack's alpha, the oldest of them, with the richest husband and the whitest pearls around her neck. Living has become a competition for them.

At the other end is her father's family—there's her timid grandmother, who looks like she is enjoying herself taking nimble bites of the cheesecake, and the gruff uncles, their arms around their wives, who bounce the baby cousins in their laps, thumbs in their mouths, just a few seconds away from a tantrum. And then there's her father who excuses himself, phone pressed to his ear.

Sena's friends sandwich Keiji and Shinji. They're the brightest, loudest flowers in this otherwise monochromatic painting. One girl strikes up a conversation with the taciturn Keiji. Shinji is only half listening, but from what little she gathers, she can tell her cousin isn't as invested as she is. They're new to being adults, so they fail at feigning maturity and disinterest. So excited to finish their drink, to complain about their bills, to discuss politics.

Shinji finds herself observing Sena and the fiancé. Even though her grandfather waxes drunk about embarrassing anecdotes, her sister's face remains calm, serene. The fiancé cocoons her in his large arms, and Shinji does not miss his thumb caressing her bare shoulders. She has read so much about it—a lover's warmth, clandestine touches, fierce kisses—but there is still a lot left for her to imagine.

"Shinji, are you feeling better?" Keiji asks her after excusing himself from a one-sided discussion on espresso shots.

She nods, eyes flitting briefly to her mother. There is nothing in the world she wants more than to leave. "Yes, I am. Thanks."

"Okay, just…" Keiji trails off as he scans a long text on his phone. He clicks it off then puts it back into his pocket. "Just tell me if you want to go home."

Shinji giggles behind her hand. "Who was that? Seems like they had a lot to say."

Keiji takes a sip of his cranberry juice before answering, "It was Bokuto-san. He's in a mood."

* * *

 **21:22**

 **"Keiji, when's your mom flying** in for the wedding?" Shinji asks as they climb up the marble stairs. The family interspersed soon after her grandfather passed out—the she-pack regrouping at a bar atop a glossy hotel, Sena and the fiancé at their shared apartment, the uncles and their wives driving back to their side of the city, her father at the airport, maybe already gone for a last-minute meeting with his board. So it's just the two of them, the chicks.

"She's not," Keiji answers, his voice quiet. The house is dark now, so she can't see her cousin's unreadable expression. "She said she can't make it."

"Oh." She tries not to let her disappointment show. Keiji's mom is a lone wolf, never succumbing to the she-pack's ways. Shinji isn't certain if her purpose is to become somebody better than them or somebody else entirely. She's always moving around, always in pursuit of something.

Always leaving Keiji behind.

"But she sends her congrats," he says, as if it's any consolation.

They reach Keiji's bedroom door. He twists the knob open and turns on the light switch. Shinji replies, "I'm sure she'll bring back an exotic wedding gift for them. Sena will love it."

Keiji nods, eyes cast down. "Yeah…"

Shinji takes his hand and squeezes it, communicating everything she can't say in the small gesture. "Good night, Keiji."

Her eyes move from one picture frame to another, a ghost of a smile dancing on her lips. There is a close-up of her and her parents at Disneyland, backdropped by the evening sky and the colorful fireworks. Their hands clasp Shinji's, silver rings absent from their fingers. There's another of her parents, a few years before Shinji was born, taken on the day her mother passed the bar exam. They're at Monty's, and Shinji's dad has his arms around her mother's shoulders, pulling her closer. Wide grins are on their faces, and her mother is wearing a blouse she would deem today as tacky, and her dad sports a spiked-up hairstyle. So much has changed since then. The last one is Shinji's favorite, because it's just her and Keiji back when they were five. They're at a park in California, and behind them are palm trees and the blue, blue sky. Keiji is giving the camera a small smile, holding on to Shinji's hand, while Shinji isn't even aware they are being photographed, her attention stolen by a scrawny American walking six pit bulls.

Something softens in Shinji. It's nice to know that her mother has kept these around even though they are a stark contrast to the large house's opulence.

Shinji collapses onto her bed as soon as she makes it into her room. She thinks of resting her eyes for a while before she has to wash up, but jolts in her surprise when her alarm rings. Groaning, she digs around in her purse to retrieve her phone. After pressing 'stop,' Shinji's eyes widen as she reads the text she received over an hour ago.

 **Bokuto:** _Hey, Shinji-chan! Are you up for a little adventure tonight?_

 ** _AHHH it's unedited :/_**

 ** _Thanks for reading!_**


End file.
